They All Lived Story 45: Wrecked
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Spring of 1966. Roy's son and Edward's student both find themselves at difficult junctures in their lives. When they make life-changing decisions, friends and family do their best to help pick up the pieces.
1. Chapter 1

**February 8****th****, 1966**

Edward grinned as Aldon hugged him on the front porch of the Resembool house.

"As much as we see you lately, it's like you live here already," Aldon joked. "You were just here last fall."

"And then you came up for Alyse's wedding," Winry chuckled as she cut in for her own hug.

"Get used to it," Ed snickered. "Once the house is finished we'll be down here a lot more often." He was looking forward to living in Resembool more again, as much as it would be rough not seeing the rest of the family all the time. They could always travel back and forth. Trains were faster now, and the roads between Resembool and Central were actually a bit faster by car for lack of long train stops to take on and off passengers and cargo. They had driven down this time in Ed's red convertible. "So how_ is_ the house coming along?"

"We'll go up and you can have a look yourself before dinner," Aldon assured him as they shuffled inside. School wasn't out yet, so for the moment the house was quiet.

"Which will take a little while," Cassie smiled as she met them at the door, little Edward clinging to her pant leg, and Callista gurgling in her arms.

"How about I give you a hand," Winry offered immediately. "Or two," she chuckled.

"With the food or the grandkids?" Ed asked.

"Both of course," Winry replied. "Why don't you two go ahead and have a look at the house while I help out here?"

"Are you sure?" Ed knew Winry was looking forward to seeing it too.

"We're going to be here for most of a month," Winry pointed out reasonably.

Ed turned to his son. "Well?"

Aldon shrugged, and grinned. "Sure, let's go."

The familiar walk was relaxing, and while the weather was brisk, Ed was reminded just how far south they were, even with the mountains. It was a little warmer than Central, and the partly cloudy sky was still patched with blue. "So how's everyone adjusting to having Callie around?" he asked, using Callista's already adopted nickname.

Aldon smiled. "Pretty well, considering. It's been a couple of years though, so we're all getting used to midnight and three in the morning feedings again."

"I thought you looked tired," Ed chuckled.

"With this one, I can do a lot more of the feeding," Aldon pointed out, though he seemed pleased with that fact. "Edward thinks she's great, because he gets to be a big brother now. Ian and Urey don't seem to mind her. Reichart's offered to watch and feed her a few times already. Usually when Cassie's getting things done around the house."

"And Coran?" Ed noticed his oldest grandchild was suspiciously absent on that list.

Aldon's smile slipped. "Honestly? I'm not entirely sure what's going on in his head these days. He's not really misbehaving or anything, but he's sulky when he's not in public, and he's been more short-tempered lately."

Ed had noticed both to some extent during their visit a month ago. Coran had been absolutely polite during family get-togethers and at the wedding, but he didn't seem to smile much, or want to be particularly social. "How does he treat Callie?"

"Fine," Aldon assured him. "Just… I get the feeling he's having trouble getting used to having another younger sibling in the house. He doesn't actively avoid her, but he doesn't offer to spend time with her either."

"He'll adjust," Ed said. "A lot's happened to him in the last couple of months, and it's not like he's being ignored."

Aldon nodded as they crested the hill before the old Elric property. "Right; Cassie and I are trying our best to be understanding and supportive and consistent. He's just frustrating lately."

"He's a teenager," Ed chuckled as he looked up at the next hill and saw the construction site ahead of him. It was distinctly odd to look up at that hill and see not the old farmhouse, and not the burned out old tree, but a busy construction area, at that very moment full of workers.

"What do you think?" Aldon asked, grinning.

"It's great," Ed replied taking in everything. The foundation was cut and poured, and all three of the floors above it were already structurally there, at least as far as the main beams and weight-bearing walls were concerned. The external walls of the first two levels were boarded in, with the spaces for doors and windows staring out at him. The deck wasn't started yet, but Ed knew that wouldn't be until last.

They spent about a half an hour watching and exploring the site. Ed asked the foreman questions as they got a tour over the areas that were safe for them to walk through, and when they left he was feeling really good about it. "They're making surprisingly good time given the season," he commented contentedly as they headed back towards the house.

"Do I want to know how you're planning to furnish that monster?" Aldon asked, grinning.

"Your mother and Elicia are going to spend way too much time shopping at my expense, that's how," Ed grinned. Not that he really minded. This was their dream place, where everyone could come and stay comfortably and the whole family could be together without stringing out halfway across Central.

"Then I'm sure it'll look great," Aldon smiled, then he stopped for a moment, and frowned. "Do you hear something?"

Ed paused. Over the next hill he heard quarreling voices. "Yeah. Sounds like a fight."

They crested the last hill before the Rockbell house to see four familiar shapes stopped in the road.

"Give it back!" Urey was glowering at Coran. Ian and Reichart were off to one side.

Coran looked frustrated and angry. "After you embarrassed us like that today? You've got to be kidding!"

"Come on, Cor… it's not like he wasn't trying," Reichart said in a calming, reasonable tone. "Give him a break."

"Yeah, give him back the bar," Ian added. "You're not Mom."

Coran was holding something, Ed realized, wishing he had his glasses on. They were just too far away for him to see details comfortably, but he guessed the item to be a candy bar. "I don't care. That was pathetic! You were dead last!"

Urey stood stock still a moment later, and then, bawling, turned and fled up the hill towards the house – his book bag still laying in the dirt.

"_Coran Elric what the hell do you think you're doing?" _

Ed jumped at the unexpected bellow that came out of Aldon, who was no longer beside him but barreling down the short hill towards his three remaining sons. Ed followed.

All three boys were staring at their father. Ian and Reichart looked like spooked deer. Coran just looked angry. "Taking care of my little brother," he replied flatly.

"More like pushing him around and taking things that aren't your business!" Aldon snatched the candy bar out of Coran's hand in one surprisingly quick grab. "You don't have the right to pick on him like that! You think that's going to help? Of course not!" He stuffed the bar in his pocket. "Now get your ass home and get your homework done… _in your room! _We'll talk about this more when I get home."

Coran's face had gone from red to purple. "So _everyone_ around here is against me! Fine! I get it!" He turned and stormed off towards the house.

Ian and Reichart stood there, fidgeting.

Aldon was panting, then he shook his head and groaned. "Shit."

"Umm…I'm gonna go home and do my homework…" Reichart said softly after a minute. "If…if that's okay."

"What happened at school?" Aldon asked, looking up.

Ed decided it was just best to stay out of it for the moment. There were times it was definitely _not_ best to step in and help out a parent.

Ian sighed. "We had a fitness run in phys ed. today. Urey came in last."

"In his class?"

"In the school," Reichart clarified. "I mean, they don't have the little kids run with us, but all the grades from Ian's on up."

Aldon still looked pissed, but he also looked concerned. "You guys can go," he replied quietly. "You're not in trouble. Neither is Urey."

Ed watched the two boys relax a little and nod, then scamper up the hill. "Well that was something."

"You see what I mean about him?" Aldon asked with a temporarily hopeless, frustrated expression. "He _knows_ Urey's self-conscious. That was completely inappropriate!"

Ed was definitely beginning to see the extent of the problem. "How long do you think he's been doing that?"

"I'm about to find out," Aldon replied firmly.

For the moment, all Ed could do was follow Aldon after the kids back up to the house and see how things worked out. He understood why Urey would be upset. The middle boy had always been the most solid build of the three to start, and compared to his brothers he was shorter and usually heavier. Given a choice, he'd rather curl up with a book than run around outside. Not that Ed blamed him, but he had noticed that the last few visits Urey was chubbier; the way he usually got before growth spurts, only this time it didn't seem to have gone away with the last spurt.

Apparently the stir outside had made things inside a bit more chaotic as well. When they entered, Winry and Cassie both looked concerned.

"Ian explained," was Cassie's entire greeting. "Urey's in his room crying. Coran's in his room, sulking."

Reichart and Ian already had their homework out and we just settling down with a snack of carrot sticks, oatmeal cookies, and milk. Little Edward was sitting next to them, mouth full of cookie, coloring. Only Callie, in Winry's arms and a bottle in her mouth, seemed oblivious to the tension in the house.

Aldon still looked like he might explode again at any second. "I can't believe he'd do something like that!"

"Don, calm down." Cassie laid one hand gently on his chest. "If you shout at him again Coran's not going to listen. Let him cool off first."

Aldon nodded begrudgingly. "Fine." He stalked over to the fridge, jerked it open, pulled out a bottle of something, and vanished back out the front door.

"You weren't kidding," Winry looked at Cassie, apparently referring to something in the conversation Ed had missed while they were out.

Ed's mind, meanwhile, was starting to go a mile a minute thinking about the problem. Given conversations with his grandsons in recent months, he thought he had an idea that might help out the situation. "Hey, Cassie," he looked at his daughter-in-law. "I've got a question."

* * *

Aldon was surprised when it was his mother who showed up out in the workshop instead of his father. Somehow, he had expected Ed to follow him. Though for the moment he was kind of glad he hadn't.

"Rough afternoon?" Winry asked as she leaned against the workshop bench he was sitting on, drinking his beer.

"Was I ever that obstinate and pushy?" Aldon blurted out. It had been a while since he'd really lost it, and he was having trouble calming down enough to go inside and talk to his eldest.

"No," Winry shook her head. "None of you were. Well, Sara could be, but not in the same ways." She smiled. "No, the only person in our family I know who's like that is your father."

"Great," Aldon took a sip. "So what should I do?"

"I appreciate your asking, but I think you already know what to do," his mother replied. "You're a good parent. Right now letting things cool off and talking it about is about the best you can do. Coran's not stupid, just frustrated. He knows better than to take it out on his brothers."

Aldon nodded. That was the problem. Coran did know better, but he did it anyway. How much of Urey's most recent reticence to go outside and play with his brothers had to do with Coran's behavior? "This is going to sound terrible, but sometimes I just want to give him a good hard smack and beat some sense into him."  
"It worked with your father."

She… had a point. "Yeah, but I'm not Izumi Curtis," Aldon shrugged. "I'm still not much of a fighter." And he had no real interest in becoming one. "I don't suppose Dad wants to go a few rounds with him?"  
Winry chuckled. "I'll ask. He just might. Though I thought you might like to know, he has an idea for what to do for Urey."

"Oh really?" Anything that was positive encouragement for his middle boy Aldon was all ears to hear! "Just what does he have in mind?"

* * *

It was almost dinner time when Edward opened the door to the room that Urey and Ian shared. Urey was sprawled on his bed, a book open in front of him as usual, but his face was puffy and red from crying. "Hey, kid," Ed smiled. "Mind if I come in?"

Urey looked over his shoulder, and nodded. "Sure, Grandpa." He rolled over, put a marker in his book and surreptitiously stuffed a couple of chocolate wrappers under it as he sat up. "Sorry about earlier."

"For what?" Ed asked as he sat down on the bed next to him. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I lost the race," Urey sighed. "And I embarrassed everyone."

"Coran isn't everyone," Ed replied flatly. "Not everyone's a fast runner, Urey. You've got plenty of other talents. You get good grades in every subject don't you?"

"Yeah, except phys ed.," Urey sighed. "I try, I really do, but I'm just not really good at sports. I get hit in the face with balls, or trip over my feet. Coran said it's cause I'm fat and slow."

That was one fifteen-year-old who deserved to get his face punched in. Not that Ed let that thought cross his expression. "Well Coran's wrong," he replied. "So don't listen to him. I actually came up here because I wanted to ask you something."

Urey looked up at him curiously. "What?"

Ed pulled the book out from behind his back and held out _Basics of Alchemy_. "How would you like to learn alchemy?"

Urey's eyes lit up when he saw the book. Tentatively he reached out and when Ed didn't close his fingers, Urey snatched it up and flipped open the cover. "That would be amazing! Do you think I could?"

"You've got everything it takes," Ed smiled, glad to see Urey so eager. "You're smart, determined, and patient. I've seen your grades, remember? I think you'd make a great alchemist. So here's what I'm gonna do. I'll leave that book here, and I want you to study and learn all the theory in the first two chapters"

"Is that all?" Urey looked relieved. Ed wasn't surprised. Urey was a fact sponge.

"Almost." Here was the tricky part; not a trick, but the bit he had to have come off right. Ed held up one hand. "Alchemy isn't just about knowledge, it's about the circulation and use of energy."

"I know that," Urey nodded.

"Good," Ed grinned. "Then you know that in order to do alchemy an alchemist is better able to control and use more energy the better shape they're in. My alchemy teacher always said… well, wait," he cut off. "You should know what she said." He'd told them all the stories enough.

Urey chuckled. "Yeah. She said 'to train the mind you must also train the body right?'" He looked proud for remembering, but then his smile slipped. "That doesn't sound so easy."

"You don't have to start out a marathon runner or anything," Ed assured him. "All I'm going to ask you to do until I come to visit again is listen to your Mom and try your best okay? When she says that's enough, it's enough. An alchemist needs to have a good sense of self-control. You still interested? I'm not going to force you to do this."

"No, I'm interested!" Urey blurted, clutching the book close. "Please, Grandpa! I'll work really hard, I promise."

Ed gave Urey a hug and grinned. "Good. That's just what I was hoping to here." He was sure that by the time he and Winry came down for their next long stay, Urey would be more than ready to start real alchemy training.

**February 13****th****, 1966**

Tore wasn't in a great mood as he got off work that afternoon. "Man, I can't believe that was it," he grumbled as he stuffed the scrap of paper in his pocket and left his desk, heading down the hall.

"What, your run time?" Cal asked as he fell into step beside him.

Tore shrugged. Normally he didn't mind annual physicals. He always did well. "I passed," he said, trying to sound like he cared a little less than he did. "But my time was twenty-seconds shy of last year." The truth was, he was irritated with himself. He'd felt sluggish today, and while that was far from a bad time, it wasn't his personal best at all.

"Maybe you're spending too much time in the bedroom," Cal teased. "You getting enough sleep?"

Tore snorted, but grinned. "Maybe that's it." Though there was more wedding planning than sex going on these days. "But if it is," he turned the reasoning back on itself, "Then how'd _you_ do?" Cal had been practically floating for over a month now. Marriage to Alyse had been good for him.

"About the same as usual," Cal admitted with a shrug. "Definitely better than last year." Of course, he'd still been recovering from his injuries this time last year.

"Well that's not bad," Tore chuckled, and tried not to feel tired and disgruntled. Maybe it wasn't that big a deal. What were a few seconds? A couple of sit-ups? Everyone had an off day. He stopped at the top of the steps as they existed the building. "You want to do something tonight?"

"Can't," Cal replied. At least he had the grace to look apologetic. "'Lyse and I are watching Minx and Mich tonight so Will and Ren can go out with friends."

"How domestic." Tore smiled, managing to keep any sarcasm out of his tone. It sounded good, really. And he knew Will and Ren could use the adult socialization time away from their kids.

"Hey now," Cal's ears turned pink for a moment. "It's a favor."

Yeah, his friend wasn't ready for kids yet. Tore chuckled. "It's okay. I won't tell anyone you turned down a game of pool to change diapers. We should hang out sometime soon."

"Yeah, we will," Cal promised. "I gotta go. See you later."

Tore watched him leave, then sighed and pulled out a cigarette as he headed towards Cecilia's apartment. She wanted him to help finalize the guest list tonight. That could be fun… right? Or at least, he hoped it could turn into something fun. Cecilia had a way of turning almost anything that might seem dull into foreplay if she wanted to.

Daydreams of how that was possible were broken off rudely when he got to her apartment and she was glowering at him when he opened the door.

Tore stopped cold. "Umm… bad day, sweetie?"

Cecilia held up what looked like his handwritten list of people Tore had planned to invite. "What is _she_ doing on here?"

The heated tone was enough to say exactly who she meant. Tore sighed. _Please can we not fight about this again? _"Charisa's one of my best friends," he replied calmly. "Look, it's not like I'm asking you to put her in the wedding party. I just want her to come."

"Why?" Cecilia asked. "Even after everything she did to me?"

"Okay we are _not_ having this argument right now!" Tore snapped. He'd had enough! It had been a long enough day.

Cecilia's mouth hung open, stopped mid-word. Then her eyes began to fill with tears, and spill over almost immediately. "I… I'm sorry but I just…"

_Awww hell. _"Ces, please don't cry." Tore stepped through the door. She didn't try and stop him as he closed it behind them. "I've had a rough day, and I don't want to ruin tonight too with arguing."

Cecilia sniffled. "That's…sweet. I'm sorry you had a rough day. Let's talk about that later then." She stuffed the list in her pocket. "Why don't we do something else to make the bad day go away?" She kissed him, her chest pressed against him, bunching up in that way he rather liked.

Tore wasn't about to argue. He was lucky Cecilia wasn't the type to argue something long and hard! He could press that issue later…if it was worth it. Charisa didn't like Cecilia either. He'd figured that out well enough by now. Would she even mind not getting an invitation? Or would she be relieved because she wouldn't have to be a good sport and put in a showing and pretend to be happy for Cecilia?

Whose hand had just gone somewhere… interesting. Tore grabbed her and started for the bedroom. He was perfectly happy to be distracted.

**February 19****th****, 1966**

_Damn it! I hate it when this happens. _Maes grumbled as he set his glass down and got to his feet. _Why is it I always run out of cola when I'm not done yet?_ He wasn't in the mood for anything else tonight. Maybe there was something in the kitchen that would go with his whiskey?  
He headed for the door to his office. He'd already put the kids to bed. Elena was out with a couple of her girl friends tonight; a rare chance to go out with friends that he hadn't wanted to deny her. At least, she said it was with female friends; a night out for just the girls. No husbands, boyfriends, or kids.

Maes knew better. She was avoiding him. Ever since that night he'd missed her attempt to lure him into bed. Or maybe before that…. Or maybe before he'd started looking through everything that came into the house or out, wondering if she was cheating…not that she would ever really cheat. Not Elena. But that she might want to. That some man was wooing his wife away and any day now he'd be handed divorce papers.

He opened the door and stepped into the hallway. He turned the corner and nearly fell flat on his face…. _Owww shit! What the…. Stupid fricken toys! _ He straightened up and kicked the stuffed animal he had stepped on into a corner. "Damned messy house." He kicked another toy out of his way as he headed for the kitchen.

He found the cola in the fridge and, whiskey glass in hand, set about adding the flavor. Really, it was better with just a little cola. He was capping the bottle when he heard footsteps on the stairs. "Who's up?" he asked gruffly.

"It's me, Dad," Roy said from the kitchen door. "I know I'm supposed to be in bed but I…I wanted to ask you something."

"What is it?" Maes asked.

"I wanted to ask if you… if you'd teach me flame alchemy."

Maes spun around so fast he almost spilled his drink. "Are you insane?" he shouted, louder than he intended.

His son stared at him, but stood his ground. "N..no! Of course not. I want to learn alchemy," he pushed on, clearly uneasy. "And you're a flame alchemist, and grandpa was a flame alchemist. He was a great alchemist! I want… I want to learn what you know."

"Not on your life," Maes growled. Was he crazy? "Flame alchemy's brought nothing but trouble to this family ever since Grandpa Hawkeye wrote it down! He died. Dad died because of what he could do! I'm not going to have you do anything so foolish!"

Roy's expression went from stunned, to hurt…to angry. "I'm not a fool! I'm not crazy either, Dad! How can you even say that stuff about Grandpa, or Great-grandpa? They were brilliant men! You shouldn't…." his voice trailed off, and his expression darkened. "Dad… are you drunk?"

Maes froze. "Of course not," he snapped back.

That only made his nearly-twelve-year-old son madder. "Yeah you are. I can _smell_ you. You promised Mom! I can't believe you. Théa and Rochelle are asleep upstairs and you're _drunk?_ What's Mom gonna say when she-"

The strike to the face startled Maes as much as it shocked Roy, who rocked backwards, staggering into the wall, one hand going to his cheek.

Maes froze, and his glass fell to the floor, shattering as it crashed on the tile. _I…I hit my son. I… hit… Roy…. And Elena. Oh Elena I… the girls are… Oh god!_

* * *

Elena laughed at one of Josie's jokes as they sat around the little table in their favorite restaurant. It was so nice to get out with some of her friends every once in a while. They were all married now, with children, and it was difficult to get away for any just-woman talk.

She nibbled at what remained of her salad and salmon; a satisfying dinner, particularly since she hadn't had to cook it herself.

"So what about you?" Henrietta asked, turning to Elena. "You always have a few good tales about Maes or the kids."

Elena sipped her tea. "Well, yesterday Rochelle asked me-"

"Excuse me ladies," the waiter interrupted apologetically. "But is there a Mrs. Mustang here? You have a call."

Elena stood. "That would be me," she informed him. It was probably Maes. Perhaps one of the children wasn't feeling well? Or just wanted a good night over the phone and was being stubborn about bedtime. "I'll just be a moment," she smiled at the others as she went back to the counter where the waiter handed over a phone. "Hello?"

The other end of the phone sniffled. "M..mom?"

Elena froze. "Roy?" Something had to be wrong.

"Yeah. I'm sorry. I called the operator and she put me through," he started babbling. "But I didn't know who to call and…"

"Roy," Elena spoke firmly, making herself stay calm. "What's wrong?"

"It's Dad!" Roy blurted out. "He… we were talking and he flipped out! He was drinking and we had a fight and then he hit me and he ran off! I'm sorry!" he wailed. "I didn't know he'd be that mad! I thought he'd be proud and…"

"Slow down, sweetie," Elena managed to cut in. Maes had hit Roy? Maes was drunk… Maes had run away? It seemed so incredible and yet…. Her throat tightened. "I'll be home as soon as I can sweetheart. Just stay there. Lock the house, and make sure your sisters are all right, okay?"

"I will, Mom," Roy promised, and she could hear him trying to pull himself together. "I'm sorry, Mom," he said again.

"It's all right," Elena soothed, panic beginning to flutter in her heart. "It's not your fault. I promise, everything is going to be okay."


	2. Chapter 2

**February 20****th****, 1966**

Sara almost couldn't believe this was happening. Even now, hours after Elena had called her house in tears, and Sara had gotten out of bed in the early morning and helped organize a search for Maes, who had apparently had some kind of breakdown the night before and run out of his own house. _Please, just let him be all right. _

The Central police wouldn't declare missing persons until Maes had been gone twenty-four hours, but something in Sara's gut instincts told her they didn't have that long. So the group from Central Command was on it instead. She wished her parents were in town as she bugged Kane and they organized a search. Uncle Al was willing, and Franz, Will, Cal, and even Tore had been called in to help; men Sara knew would be discrete and not make this a bigger spectacle than it had to be.

Sara, much as she normally would have hated being stuck at base on a mission, stayed at the house with Elena and Riza, who was doing her best to calm the kids.

Elena looked like someone had run over her heart. Normally composed and lovely, even in sorrow, she looked distraught, exhausted, and had clearly been crying most of the night.

"More tea?" Sara offered as she finished making sandwiches for lunch for everyone there. Franz had dropped Trisha and James off before heading out himself, and they were upstairs with Riza and the others.

Elena shook her head. "No thanks. I... I'm not thirsty."

"Or hungry either I'll bet," Sara sighed, though she set a sandwich on the table anyway. "We'll find him," she assured Elena. "Or he'll come right back through that door on his own any minute, guilt-ridden and apologetic and begging for forgiveness." She didn't mention that was the _best_ case scenario.

"I hope so," Elena sighed, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief.

The phone rang, and Sara answered. "Mustang residence."

"Sara, it's Cal. They found him!"

"They?"

"The police," Cal replied quickly. "They found Maes in a motel outside town. Or rather, the cleaning crew did."

Sara felt a moment of relief, until Cal's unhappy tone registered. "Is he okay?"

"You'd better have Elena come down to the hospital, Sara. Maes is… well, he's not in good shape."

"But he's alive, right?" Sara pressed.

"Yeah," Cal replied. "Though not for lack of trying."

* * *

"Suicide?" Riza Mustang almost shouted as she looked at Doctor Tynes – Grey and Fillmore's latest partner – the only man between her and her son.

Tynes didn't look like he was enjoying that interview. Cal couldn't help but feel sorry for the guy. Riza looked like she wasn't handling the news any better than Elena, who was close to breaking out in tears again. "Yes, Ma'am. He was found with a gun in his hand, and a glancing wound to the head. The amount of alcohol in his system when they brought him in was still in the near-toxic numbers. All evidence is consistent with a suicide attempt."

Elena started quietly sobbing.

Riza's strained expression did not ease. "Can we… see him?"

"Of course," Tynes nodded. "But only briefly. He's still unconscious. I don't expect him to awaken until the alcohol is out of him. We have an IV flushing the system now."

Cal watched them go, then sighed and turned to the waiting Central police officer who had been there even when Cal arrived. "Anything I can help you with, officer?"

"You know the victim?" the officer asked.

"We're colleagues," Cal confirmed. Of course, there would be questions and an investigation, at least to prove it was only Maes acting and not some sort of foul play. No damage had been done to the motel except where the bullet had ended up in the floor.

The officer nodded. "Then I would appreciate it if you could answer a few questions about Lieutenant Colonel Mustang."

Cal sighed. He hated these kinds of investigations, but if he could save Riza and Elena some time and stress, he would do it. _You've got a lot to answer for when you wake up, Mustang. I, for one, would really like to know what possessed you to try and off yourself. _

* * *

_My foolish boy. I always hoped there would be some things you wouldn't take after your father in. _Riza sat at Maes' bedside, her hand resting on that of her unconscious son. It was late in the evening, and aside from breathing he had barely stirred. He certainly hadn't woken up to explain just what it was about his life that made him want to put a gun to his head and pull the trigger. _Ironic that he was saved by being too drunk to aim straight. _Riza ignored the tears that occasionally dripped from her eyes. She and Elena had been sitting with Maes in shifts all afternoon. She was grateful that Sara had taken the three kids to her house for the night. The girls were worried; all they had been told was that Maes was sick. Roy however, the poor boy, was distraught and half-convinced he had been the one and only cause of his father's explosion.

As she pushed a stray lock of hair out of Maes's face, he stirred. Eyelids fluttered. "Oh thank goodness," she breathed aloud.

Maes' eyes peeked, closed, then shot open with surprising suddenness. "A…"

"Maes, it's me," Riza said calmingly when she saw alarm in his eyes. "It's your mother. It's all right. I-"

"Nooooo!" With a shout, Maes jerked up and tried to scramble from the bed with such suddness Riza barely acted in time.

"Maes!" She pushed him back down before he could rip the IV out the hard way. "Doctor!" What was the matter with him?

Within seconds there were nurses in the room; two large males who held Maes pinned as he struggled and screamed unintelligibly.

Riza staggered back, stung and fearful. "What's wrong with him?" she asked her question aloud as Doctor Tynes hurried in and stuck something into the IV. Within seconds, Maes stopped resisting, and was soon once more unconscious. Riza waited for her answer.

Tynes panted, calming slowly, then shook his head. "You don't see that very often," he commented half under his breath. Then he looked at Riza, and gave her an apologetic frown. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Mustang but… panic like that isn't usually the typical response of a patient after alcohol poisoning. I think we may have to consider whatever psychological cause of the suicide attempt in the first place may still be affecting his brain."

"What does that _mean?_" That screaming lunatic was hardly her son!

"It means that I believe Maes has likely had a complete mental breakdown."

**February 21****st****, 1966**

It was a quiet dinner at Alphonse's house. It wasn't an entire-family dinner evening. Will and Ren were having dinner with friends, but Cal and Alyse had come over and now that dinner was over, everyone was trying to relax in the living room; trying… because yesterday's events still weighed on their hearts.

Elicia and Gracia had cleaned up and put on tea to go with dessert, which they had decided to take in the living room.

Alyse and Cal were snuggled together on the couch, piled in cats, talking quietly. Al watched his son-in-law absently stroking Orestes, and felt sympathy at the exhausted and strained expression on his face. Al had seen it before many times. On Ed, on himself, on Roy over the years. It was rough when the people you cared about needed help, and you weren't always sure how to help, or if you could have done something to prevent it.

Maes' problems had surfaced from time to time, sure. He'd been headstrong and emotional in his twenties, but after Aerugo he'd been nothing but exemplary. Until the court martial… was that it? Was that when things had changed? Maes had been cleared of all charges.

Or was it the war with Drachma? Al had been so wrapped up in his own problems that he only vaguely remembered hearing about issues with Maes getting injured, or having trouble with missions. And then, of course, there was his father's death.

But was any of that worth trying to kill himself? Al couldn't imagine wanting to die, and leave behind a wonderful woman like Elena and their three darling children. Even in his own darkest moments, he had never _wanted_ death.

"He'll be all right," Alyse whispered softly, probably completely unaware that Al was listening. "You've done everything you can."

"But how did we never notice?" Cal asked just as softly, voice hoarse. "I see him almost every day! How could he be that messed up and keep it from us? Why would he even want to?"

"Probably because he was ashamed," Alyse pulled Cal close in a comforting hug that he reciprocated tightly."No one likes to show themselves at their weakest."

She was right of course, Al thought. It fit perfectly well that Maes was as insecure and proud as his father; possibly more so. He'd already messed up publically enough that the idea of having it happen again was probably terrifying.

Al moved away from the doorframe, as Elicia joined them with a tray of tea and small desserts. She smiled encouragingly. "So, who could use a pick me up?"

* * *

"I just don't get it!" Coran sat back in the chair, frustration getting the better of him again.

Ed waited patiently for his grandson to calm down. Only after he had offered Urey the opportunity to learn alchemy had Coran _finally_ gotten around to asking him about learning. "Okay, what don't you get?"

"Most of it," Coran admitted. "I mean, the theory sort of makes sense, but I can't even draw a basic circle and the application isn't as easy as I thought it would be."

Aha. "No one ever said alchemy was easy," Ed replied. "If it was, don't you think everyone would do it? It's like engineering. You learn the basic underlying principles, and then the more complexly you can combine them, the more you can do with them. Slow down and be patient. You can't pick it all up in a day."

"I just feel stupid knowing that you could do this when you were five," Coran groused. "I should have asked you earlier."

"Age really has nothing to do with it," Ed contradicted him. "Most alchemists don't start learning until they're adults, or at least teenagers. Al and I were unusual, and most of our family is in that respect. Everyone learns at his or her own pace and has different talents."

Coran stared at the book for a moment, then sat forward again. "I guess I was just expecting something different. I don't mind challenges, it just… I'm having trouble wrapping my head around it."

"Take a break," Ed suggested. "You've been at this for three hours now. You'll just give yourself a headache."

"Too late," Coran admitted, but he closed the book. "I'll work on it later."

"It gets easier with practice," Ed promised.

Coran didn't respond for a moment. He had a thoughtful look on his face. "Hey, Grandpa."

"Yeah?"

"Could I use my drafting tools to draw circles?" He looked up. "They don't have to be hand-drawn if I'm not in a hurry right?"

_That's using your brain kid. _Ed grinned. If he wasn't in combat, speed wasn't an issue. If he could start applying his mind like that more, he'd probably get something out of it. "Sounds like a brilliant idea to me."

**February 22****nd****, 1966**

_Neveragain. Mysonmusthateme. Mywifedeservesbetter. I'mnothim. Ican'tbehim. I'mnotgoodenough. I'vescrewedupcompletely. It'stoolate. Theyhateme. I'msuchaloser. I'museless. I'mweak. Ican'tdothis. I'veruinedtheirlives. I'mnoalchemist. I'mnofather .I'mnothing. I'mworthless. Theyknowit. It'sover. Ican'tfacethisagain. TheyknowIfailed. I'mstillhere. Ishouldn'tbehere. Idon'tbelonghere. I'mamonster. I'mstupid. I'mlousy. Howcantheytrustme? Ican'tbetrusted. I'madrunk. I'maliar. I''tdothis. Ican'tlookthemintheeyes. I'mafailure.. ateverything. Nothing. Worthless. Spineless. Incapable. Demon. Bastard. Worsethanbastard. Disgracetothefamily. Disgracetothename. Disgracetomyuniform,mywife,mychildren,mymother,myfather,myself. I'mnotdead. Ishouldbedead. Iwanttobedead. Iwantthistoend….._

* * *

Riza wasn't sure she could take it anymore. She watched Maes through the window in the door to his room. He'd been awake since yesterday morning, but he might as well still be unconscious for all the recognition he gave them. It wasn't that he didn't seem to know who they were, it was more like something inside his head refused to acknowledge her or Elena except to send him into fits when he couldn't ignore them. Mention of Roy – either of them – sent him into hysterics. He'd been sedated once more yesterday, and then in the evening to make him sleep. She jus wished she knew what was going on in her son's head right at that moment. Mostly because she had the feeling she knew…and she didn't like it.

Maes was standing by the window, staring out into the hospital parking lot – an improvement over earlier in that he was no longer curled up on the floor – rocking back and forth on his heels, his arms hugged around himself. In nothing but a hospital gown and pants, he looked like a patient in a mental ward. _For good reason… _

Riza stepped out of the way as a nurse approached and went in with a tray that held lunch, and a small pill cup that held vitamins and a milder form of the sedative they gave him at night. It didn't last long, but it kept him calmer.

The nurse approached, and Maes turned to look at her, then looked down at the tray. Through the closed door, Riza couldn't hear what they were saying. Maes turned away again, and when the nurse put a hand on his shoulder, he spun, angry, and the tray dashed to the ground.

_Oh I have had enough of this! _Riza couldn't take it anymore. She shoved the door open and strode into the room, right across to Maes and slapped him hard across the face. "_That's enough! _I want to talk to you Maes Mustang and you're going to _pay attention!" _

The nurse's mouth was slack-jawed, and Maes looked even more stunned. He just stared at her, speechless, unmoving as a pink welt formed on his cheek.

Riza took advantage of the silence. "I am not going to sit here and watch this family fall apart! You are _not_ Roy Mustang. You will never _be _Roy Mustang. No one should ever _want_ to have been _Roy Mustang._ You shouldn't blame yourself for your father's death, or for your insecurities, your drinking If anything, _Blame Roy_. Go ahead! I knew him for over fifty years and the drinking, the guilt, the self-punishment, the drive to succeed, the goals, the emotional instability… You get them all from him! You're _so much_ like your father….and I wish for all my heart and soul you weren't!" Tears spilled from her eyes, running in a soft, steady stream.

"Do you know what he said was his greatest accomplishment, Maes? _You_! You were _our_ greatest accomplishment; something wonderful we created together, that made us a family. You were the thing he treasured most. That was why he lauded your successes. That was why he was grieved when you were hurting, when you fell, when you failed. Not because you failed, but because he felt he failed _you._ He loved you. He loved _us_! He never wanted you to know the pains he felt in his life or suffer because of anything he had ever done, or failed to do. He wanted to give you _everything_…. I know he gave you his strength to stand up and move past this. Roy tried to kill himself once too. Did you know that? But he didn't. He lived, and he kept living. He accomplished so many things from that point."

Maes face was a near-emotionless mask, except for his eyes. They were the most focused Riza had seen them in days. He was listening, for this brief moment. However much he retained, well she had to say it all now. She didn't want to think she might never get through to him again.

"Please Maes, you have so much life left, so many talents, so many wonderful qualities. You have a wife who's scared for you, and children who love you deeply and are terrified because their father is hurting and you know what? They want to _help _you. They don't want to turn their backs on you. _None_ of us do. So _snap out of it_ and stand up and be yourself! That's all any of us have ever wanted you to be… just yourself Maes. That's enough." Her voice failed her, and her hands fell limp at her sides.

Slowly, so very slowly, Maes hand moved up to his cheek.

"Ma'am," the nurse finally squeaked. "Maybe you should-"

Maes lunged forward, and it was all Riza could do to put her arms up –

-before her son fell sobbing against her, his arms wrapped tightly around her body. Braced to push, Riza's defensive stance turned immediately into a mother's loving embrace as her 'little boy' cried brokenly against her. "There there," she whispered up into his ear. "It's all right… it'll be all right."

Around them, Riza was aware of the nurse picking up the tray and going to fetch Doctor Tynes, though no one tried to interfere with Maes' panicked grip on her. Eventually the crying stopped and he just stood there.

"Maes," Tynes spoke up quietly. "We could use your cooperation. Will you please eat your lunch?"

That was all he asked of him. Riza watched her son lift his head to at least look at her. He still looked ashamed and miserable, but he nodded a quiet affirmative. "Yeah."

"Your wife is here," Tynes continued in the same conversational tone. "Do you want to see her."

For a moment, Riza thought Maes might collapse again. His grip tightened. "N…no."

Riza's heart sank, but she didn't try and argue with him. It would be, she suspected, like arguing with a toddler, but one large enough to actually hurt someone. "All right," she replied. "I need to go speak with her though, okay? I'll be right back," she promised. "Eat, okay?"

Maes slowly let go of her, and Riza turned and left the room. She wasn't sure if she should feel ashamed or pleased with the outcome. Maes seemed to have snapped out of his delirium, but she had completely lost self-control. She just hoped that this was it; the end of the low point, and that from here on out her son would begin to come back to himself.

First, she just hoped he would agree to see his wife.


	3. Chapter 3

**March 4****th****, 1966**

"Mrs. Mustang?"

Sitting in the hospital waiting room, for another long afternoon that she supposed would once more be fruitless, Elena was used to the nurses asking her a variety of usually small and inane questions like 'how are you?' It wasn't as if they didn't already know the answer. It had been over a week and a half, and still Maes refused to see her.

Which left her wondering just one thing; how much of this was her fault? Elena had done her best to be a good wife and mother. She had only taken the job with the embassy when Maes had said it was all right. She would never have done it if she had thought he was unhappy with her decision. But did that mean he was too secretive, or did that mean she just didn't know him as well as she thought she had, and should? They had been married for thirteen years. No, those times had not been easy, but she had done all she could to try and be patient, supportive. She had forgiven him his faults; the occasional bout of drinking, his jealousy of any man who might seem to be friendly with her – of course she'd noticed – and, perhaps most importantly, she had honestly believed him when he pled and was found innocent of the possible account of infidelity when she miscarried and then was pregnant with Rochelle.

Maes had his faults, but Elena knew she wasn't perfect. She hadn't thought that their relationship was bad enough to make her husband want to die, even if it meant leaving her and their children behind. He had said he wanted a big family, with her. He'd claimed he was happy. He'd claimed everything was the way he'd agreed and wanted it.

And then he'd tried to kill himself.

"_Mrs. Mustang_."

Elena looked up, realizing that the nurse was still standing there. "I'm sorry," she apologized, embarrassed. "Can I help you?"

The nurse smiled sympathetically. "Not me, but perhaps someone else. Your husband wants to see you."

"He does?" The words blurted out so quickly she was immediately sorry she'd said it. "I mean… thank you." She immediately gathered up the book she had been staring at for the last half hour and her purse and followed the nurse. Maes _wanted_ to see her? At last! But… did that mean he would be happy to see her? Or that he just knew he couldn't avoid her forever.

From his expression when she reached the door, Elena expected it was more of the latter. Maes was sitting on the bed, in his own blue sweatpants and a white undershirt. He hadn't shaved in a few days, and it was odd to see him nearly half-way to a full beard when he usually kept completely clean-shaven. "Hi," she said uncertainly, offering a small smile. Even if he wasn't happy to see her, she was happy he had even asked!

"I'll be outside if you need me." The nurse closed the door, and they were alone.

"How are you?" Elena asked, unsure of how to proceed. _This is ridiculous, we're married! _

"I've been better," Maes replied. "I… you wanna sit down?" He tapped the bed with one hand. He looked so delicate. While his body was as solid and strong as ever, he still somehow managed to look like he might just fall apart any moment.

Elena came over and sat down next to him. Close enough he could touch her if he wanted, but not too close. "Thanks. They... said you wanted to see me."

"Yeah." Maes swallowed. "I… I don't even know how to start," he blushed. "I don't know how I can ever….ask for or … or expect your… forgiveness. I don't… deserve it."

So halting, so hesitant. Elena had thought she was out of tears days ago. She was wrong. "This isn't about forgiveness," she replied softly, reaching out and laying one hand gently on his cheek. "I don't understand, beloved. Why would you try and leave us? Am I so terrible?" Her tears let loose.

"What?" Maes' eyes widened. "Elena! No! I… you're not. It's not…"

"Don't tell me it's not me!" She managed not to shout, but she couldn't keep the pain in. "I'm sorry, but I'm upset. How can you want to die and keep me at a distance and be so jealous and suspicious and then tell me it's not me?"

Maes looked down at his hands, turning his head away from her palm "I don't know…" he whispered. "I don't know why I ever suspected you."

"Just tell me why you did it," Elena sniffed. "Then we can move past this and put our family back together."

Maes looked up at her, wide-eyed. "You don't want a divorce?"

A… "What do you take me for?" Elena glared at him. "I love you! Why would I want to be with anyone else?"

"Because anyone else isn't a psychotic monster who hurts his children."

At least Elena thought she knew the breaking point now. "Roy doesn't hate you," she said softly. "He didn't know how unhappy you were about his wanting to learn alchemy."

"It's not his fault," Maes mumbled. "I didn't tell him. What… what have you told the kids?"

Elena sighed. "The girls only know you're not feeling well," she assured him. How could she ever have explained to her little girls that their father had tried to kill himself? "Roy… figured it out, and I couldn't not tell him then."

"And he doesn't hate me?" Maes asked in clear disbelief. "You don't? Why not? I've treated you like garbage for… years."

"I could ask the same, for the same reason," Elena pointed out, keeping her voice as patiently even as she could manage.

"I could never hate you," Maes sighed. "I don't! Not for that. I didn't do it because I don't love you…. I … I did it because I hate myself."

After months… no, to be fair,_ years_, of almost no real contact, Elena couldn't take it. She wrapped her arms around his nearest arm – his right – and squeezed. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to blame yourself… or be ashamed of me."

"You're too hard on yourself," Elena rested her head on his shoulder, just glad he hadn't pulled away again. "Please… don't leave me." She couldn't imagine life without him… except as a bleak and painfully empty life, raising their children and trying to go on, feeling like it was somehow all her fault. "Don't push us away. Let me help you through this."

Maes' hand came up and rested on her arm. "I don't deserve you."

"Sure you do," she disagreed. "I should have seen you were suffering… and you rescued me. In all the stories, that makes me yours right?"

Maes patted her arm, but did not respond.

"You're being awfully reasonable about this," Elena commented after a moment.

Maes smirked dryly. It wasn't quite a smile, but it was the closest she was likely to see for a while. "They've got me pretty heavily medicated," he admitted. "I don't know what all."

Elena did. She sighed. "A sedative, so you don't flip out again… and something they said would keep your moods more stable, at least in the short term."

"Only short?" Maes looked down at her.

"It's too strong to take regularly." That was really all she knew. They couldn't medicate him forever. That meant, Maes would have to function again on his own before long. "Just until you're a bit better. Which means you have to, by the way," she said it firmly, but she smiled, hoping he understood that she wasn't trying to be critical.

Maes kissed the top of her head, and then rested his own on hers. "Yes, ma'am. Whatever you want of me, it's yours."

**March 9****th****, 1966**

There had to be more exciting things they could be doing than neatly writing out names and addresses on wedding invitations. However, Cecilia was so cheerful that evening as they carefully stuffed each envelope, sealed it with a little sticker, and addressed it in a calligraphic pen she had bought for the occasion, that Tore didn't even bring up the possibility of doing something else. Besides, they were almost finished.

He was doing most of the stuffing. Cecilia had too much fun with the sticker-seals, stamps, and the pen. Besides, she had prettier handwriting. "Aren't they lovely?" she gushed as she added yet another to the growing pile on the table.

"Very pretty," Tore agreed as he sealed another envelope and tried to pretend they didn't taste like glue. "You picked nice colors." He had to admit, the vibrant blue and gold went nicely together. It was fairly striking.

"I like coordinating," Cecilia smiled coyly at him. "I can't wait until I get the chance to decorate a nursery. There's so many things you can do with one, and children would be fun." She glanced sideways. "Don't you think so, Tore?"

Tore's hand froze halfway to the glass of rum he'd been using to wash the glue taste out of his mouth. "Kids?" he chuckled nervously. They'd never even discussed kids! Why did she want to talk about them now? Besides… where would they put them in her one-room apartment? And really… he glanced around the apartment at the ash trays, the open drinks, the sharp corners… he thought of their loud and passionate nights… "You're kidding right?" he chuckled, desperately hoping she was! "I mean…eventually sure." He wanted them… later. "But can you see us as parents right _now_?"

Cecilia's smile faded a moment, just briefly, then she shrugged casually. "Well, yeah, you're right of course. I'm not saying right now, you know?"

Tore felt a panicked tightness in his chest lessen. "Someday," he smiled back. He didn't dislike kids, but he couldn't imagine them as parents! He wasn't ready for that. "So," he felt only mildly guilty changing the subject, "What was it you were saying about that idea you had for table decorations for the reception?"

**March 12****th****, 1966**

"So did Coran ever get it?" Ethan asked Edward curiously as they sat around the fireplace after dinner on Ed and Winry's first night back home.

Ed, comfortably reclining in his favorite chair with Lily in his arms, smiled. "Yeah. By the end of the trip he'd managed to draw a few functional circles. He didn't manage to do much, but he'll get there eventually if he applies himself."

"At least it will give him something to think about other than girls and griping at his brothers," Winry commented as she sat down on the couch, where Lia was politely breastfeeding Eamon, a light blanket protecting modesty. Ed knew she could feed both at once, but one at a time certainly seemed easier. Lily, already fed, was fast asleep.

Ethan, on whom Lia was leaning, grinned. "Those both sound good to me. Sounds like Aldon and Cassie have a lot on their hands right now." There was sympathy in his expression. "A baby and a teenager at the same time."

"And everything in between," Tore quipped as he came in from the backyard.

Ed watched him cross the room and take the empty couch across from the others, Tore's eyes lighting on Ethan and Lia as he leaned back. He looked tired, Ed noted, and it was his second smoke break that evening. Pre-wedding nerves probably; it was only a couple of months out now. Rapscallion hopped up on the couch and started shoving his head at Tore's hands for petting. "Yeah, it's a full house."

"I don't think we'll have that many," Lia smiled, slipping Eamon out from under the blanket and handing him off to Ethan as she readjusted her clothing and removed the blanket.

Ethan laughed as he put the squirming three-month-old on his shoulder and started patting. "Yes ma'am."

"What about you, Tore?" Lia asked conversationally.

Tore froze. "Me?"

"Does Cecilia want a large family?"

Ed watched his former student gather himself subtly, and shrug just a little too casually. "We haven't really decided on a number," Tore replied. "Figure we'll see how it goes right?" Then he grinned. "We _won't _be giving Aldon a run for his money."

Ethan chuckled. "Wise idea."

Ed suspected no one else had noticed Tore's hesitation, as Lia and Winry's conversation turned to other baby related subjects, and Ethan stood up to get better movement as Eamon began to fuss.

"Hey there, big guy," Ethan rubbed his son's back. "It's okay. Bring it on up." Eamon whimpered, but a moment later let out a good long burp. "Good job," Ethan chuckled.

"Yeah, too bad we don't get praised for that after the age of two," Tore snickered as he rubbed Rapscallion's belly. The cat was happily sprawled across his lap now.

"Would be nice," Ethan agreed.

"Ethan!"

Ed's son looked back over his shoulder at Lia. "Well it's not like a guy can help it right?"

In Ed's arms, Lily let out a little grunt and a small burp in her sleep. "Or a girl," Ed added with a laugh.

Tore poked his cat. "I guess that makes it your turn, fur ball."

The cat just lay there, belly up, purring contentedly.

"There we have it," Winry teased. "Only the cat has good manners."

Lia giggled. "Now if only we could teach the guys to purr instead."

Ed looked at Ethan, then Tore. Yeah, they all had the same thought. If it made women happy… "We can learn!"

**March 14****th****, 1966**

Tore didn't like it, not one bit, but there was just no denying it. Over the past few days it had become more and more painfully clear to him; he was _not_ ready to get married. Not to Cecilia… not to anyone.

Ever since Cecilia and his rather unplanned engagement, Tore couldn't help looking at the functionality of the different relationships around him. How did the couples work? How did they interact? What made them good relationships? Ed and Winry, Ethan and Lia, Cal and Alyse… any of the Elrics really and they had quite a variety of relationships in just that family. Other Alchemists at HQ… and he just couldn't see any of that in his relationship with Cecilia.

Sure they had a good time. They had a lot of really good sex, got tipsy and played cards, hung out with her friends… but none of that looked anything like what he saw when he looked at the married couples he knew. Not that it meant they had to be _traditional._

Which was why Cecilia's excited statement about children had shocked him. How would kids ever fit into their lifestyle? Parents had to be responsible. Parenthood meant schedules, good behavior, late nights with infants, or if the kids got sick. It meant setting a good example. It meant… a lot of things, and he just couldn't see him and Cecilia as parents. Not now… maybe not ever.

What did that say about the rest of their relationship? Really… they were pretty superficial. Dragging in dead tired after a night of sex into work was already less enjoyable than it had been before. Odd as it was to think he could get tired of something like that! But there it was.

No, he wasn't ready, but how the hell was he going to tell Cecilia? He had to. There was just no way he could go through with a wedding in May and live with himself. It would be a lie to make those vows when he wasn't even sure if …really… this was love. He'd thought he could settle for what he had, but he'd been wrong. Things were moving too fast, and if he didn't slow down and follow his instincts now, he'd regret it for the rest of his life.

_This might be easier if I was already drunk…_ Then maybe he wouldn't remember it later. He opened Cecilia's apartment door and went inside.

The little kitchen table had a tablecloth, a half-used drippy candle, and what passed for Cecilia's best tableware. It wasn't fancy, unless you were her. "What's this?"

"Ohhh…. You're early!" Cecilia's exclaimed plaintively as she stuck her head out of the little kitchen. She didn't cook a whole lot, but it smelled like she was making an attempt. "I wanted to surprise you!"

"It's okay," Tore smiled weakly. "I'm definitely surprised." Maybe he'd tell her… after dinner? His resolve was already faltering. She looked so happy, and sort of cute with that silly- frilled kitchen apron she owned that almost never got used.

"Good," she came over and kissed him hello. "You've been so much help lately, and so sweet and I wanted to do something for you. I feel bad that we never cook, you know? So I thought I'd fix you something."

"What is it?" Tore couldn't quite place the smell.

"Chicken-fried steak and fries," Cecilia beamed, then her eyes widened as spitting sounds came from the kitchen. "The fryer!" And she vanished.

Cecilia owned a fryer? Tore had a sudden bad feeling about dinner. The feeling didn't go away when the food was actually on the table either. The meat…well he thought it was meat, was greasy and yet also dry. Tore wasn't sure how she'd managed that. The fries were just sort of limp. Still, he thanked her and stomached it, eating the entire plate she'd served him.

"I'm so glad you liked it," she gushed. "You want seconds?"

"Oh no thanks," Tore waved her off. "It was really… filling."

Cecilia smiled and cleared their plates. Tore got himself a beer, hoping it would help get the flavor off his tongue. He remembered now why he hadn't suggested Cecilia cook more after they first started sleeping together.

"So, what's the plan this evening?" he asked as he joined her in the kitchen.

Cecilia rinsed the plates and set them up to dry, then turned and smiled playfully. "I thought we could do something fun."

Fun was good… "Like?" He leaned in to kiss her.

"Work on the wedding vows!"

Fun died.

Tore took a step back, and swallowed his pride. "Cecilia, I, there's something I wanted to talk about… about that."

"You're not poetic?" Cecilia asked, missing the hint apparently. "I noticed," her nose wrinkled as she smiled. "But that's okay. I figured I could help!"

"No." Tore shook his head. "That's not what I meant." There was _no_ good way to say this.

"Then what is it?" Her brow furrowed slightly.

_I'm sorry. _"Ces… I'm not ready for this."

"Oh." She looked up at him uncertainly. "You mean you're nervous. That makes sense. I mean, getting married's a big deal."

"Not just nervous," Tore shook his head, hating how long this was taking. Why couldn't she just understand? It was so simple! "I'm not ready to get married _at all._"

From the way the room seemed to drop ten degrees just from her face, Tore knew Cecilia understood him this time. "You want to postpone the wedding?"

"Cancel."

"Can…. Why?" Tears sprang like an instant fountain from her eyes. "I thought you loved me! Why don't you want to get married?"

"Because I think… I think it would be a bad idea," Tore kept going. It wasn't like he could back up now. "It's not that I don't have feelings for you but… No, I don't think it's really love."

Her palm slammed into his face, and stinging pain shot through him. "How dare you!" She wailed. "You lied to me? What… what was this about, Tore? Was it just for the sex? Why would you propose if you didn't want to marry me?"

"I didn't!" Tore replied, his fists clenching. "I asked a question and you misunderstood. You were so happy I… I didn't have the heart to tell you. I thought I could make it work. But I just can't do this." That was it.

"But… but we mailed the invitations!" Cecilia wiped teary mascara-dripping eyes with one hand.

"We'll have to send out a retraction." Tore turned abruptly and headed for the bedroom. There wasn't much here he didn't mind leaving, but he wanted his spare change of clothes.

"You can't do this!" Cecilia shouted, following him, grabbing his arm as he reached into the closet. "Tore please! I love you! I need you! You're the only person who's ever treated me so well."

"Which doesn't make me the right guy," Tore replied, jerking his arm away from her. He needed out of here…now. The urge to turn around, to soothe her, to take the easy way was too strong. That wouldn't work. "It just makes me a nice guy." He grabbed his shorts and shirt off the small shelf he used and stepped around her to get to get back to the door.

"No it doesn't," Cecilia shouted after him, her frantic tone turning angry. "It means you prey on innocent girls! You… you take what you want and you leave! Look at you running scared! You can't even make a commitment! Get out! I don't ever want to see you again!"

"Don't worry," Tore yanked the front door open, feeling like a heel as she slammed it behind him. "You won't."

**March 15****th****, 1966**

"Well if it isn't the birthday boy," Sara grinned as Cal sauntered into the office.

Cal gave her a mock-glare, one he clearly didn't mean. "Do you have to say that out loud?"

Sara shrugged. The office was practically empty, and the only other Alchemists in the room already knew. "What's the matter, not thrilled to be Forty?"

Cal handed over a small sheaf of papers that proved to be the write-up of his latest assignment. "I wouldn't call it thrilled," he nodded.

"I'm surprised you showed up at all," Sara admitted as she looked it over briefly. As usual, the report looked complete. "I'd have thought you'd have taken any excuse to stay home today."

"Oh I would've," Cal finally grinned, "But Alyse could only get half the day off."

Sara leaned back in her chair. "Working on giving Minxia and Michio some first cousins are we?" Teasing Cal had gotten a lot more fun since he got together with Alyse.

"Oh don't even start," Cal snorted. "I'd like at least a _little_ time with my wife to myself before we add another member to the household."

"All right," Sara let it drop. "That doesn't mean I'm missing the party tonight." Elicia had insisted that her son-in-law have a proper birthday party after Alyse let it _slip_ that Cal had admitted he'd never really had one since he was a little kid.

"Well I wouldn't expect you to," Cal admitted. "Strange as it is, it actually sounds like it might be fun."

Sara smiled. "Family get-togethers usually are. Especially when it's _everyone._" The extended family just made everything better.

"Speaking of everyone, I had a question for Tore," Cal said. "Where's he at?"

Sara stopped. "Well, he had a mission he was supposed to take care of this morning I assigned him yesterday, but I expected him in by now."

Cal's smile faded. "That's odd. He told me yesterday he was gonna be in pretty early."

That was odd. "Well he didn't call in." That, now that she thought about it, was actually pretty unusual for Tore. He'd been tired lately. "Maybe he's ill?"

"He seemed okay last night," Cal replied, "Though it's possible." He chuckled. "Maybe he played hookie with Cecilia?"

Now that sounded like Tore too. Sara sighed. "I'll give her place a call." She picked up the phone, looked up the number for Cecilia's apartment, and waited.

The phone rang for over a minute before there was a pick-up on the other end. "Hello?" Cecilia's tired voice came over the line.

Oh yeah, definitely a late night there. "Hi, Cecilia? This is Colonel Heimler, calling for Terrence Closson." It was just easier to be official; Sara wasn't inclined to be too informal with Tore's fiancée when she didn't have to be.

"Well that bastard isn't here!" Cecilia's shout half-deafened her.

_Uh oh. _"I see," Sara replied calmly. "Do you know where he is?"

"I don't care where he is!" Cecilia shrieked. "I hope he falls off a cliff!" And the line clicked dead.

From Cal's expression, he'd been able to hear the shouting. "Well, shit. Sounds like trouble in paradise."

"Sounds like we know why Tore's not here," Sara replied, irritation at Cecilia turning quickly into concern. "If Cecilia's that mad at Tore, it's more than a small argument." Cecilia hadn't just sounded pissed-off-at-your-lover angry… she'd sounded like she might be ready to cry on the other end. Tore wasn't the type who usually got that reaction from women. Whatever Sara might say about his relationships, there was that. But this… on top of everything else lately… "You think he's in his room?" She looked up at Cal.

Whitewater seemed to be thinking along the same lines, only his face had gone slightly ashen. "Yeah. I hope so anyway. I mean, I hope it's not too serious."

She didn't have to ask. Cal's mind had gone to Maes too. But surely Tore was more stable than that…. Right? "Fischer. Go to Closson's quarters and tell him to check in."

Cal nodded. "I'm on it." He hurried out the door fast enough that Sara was glad she'd made it an order. That way no one could waylay him until they found out how Tore was doing. All Sara really remembered was that when he was really involved with a girl, he didn't handle breakups too well.

* * *

"And you called me here to break through a door that belongs to the military?" Edward stared at Cal Fischer with a feeling of both concern and amusement. Or at least, he'd have been amused if the situation were anything else.

Cal looked slightly embarrassed. "Sorry, Fullmetal, but I'm not breaking in a military issue door on duty. Besides," he shrugged. "Water's pretty useless unless we're trying to flood the place."

Ed shook his head. "I thought I tought you all better," he snickered as he clapped his hands together and held them up to the lock on Tore's door in the NCO quarters. If he was in there, Tore had stubbornly refused to respond to verbal promptings of any kind. A moment later he had completely rendered the lock useless… and open. "I'll fix it later. Right now there are more important things to do."

The door opened into a pitch-dark room and a smell that Ed had long ago learned to hate – the lingering waft of open alcohol and reek of cigarettes. _No wonder Sara was worried about a fight._ "Tore!" Ed barked. As his eyes adjusted to the light he could see the outline of the man in question, curled up with his head on his knees, back against the head of the bed, hands clenched tightly around a bottle. "If you don't say something you're getting buried alive. Report, Major."

For a moment, Ed wasn't sure if Tore would respond at all, but slowly Tore's head tilted and he looked up, squinting in the light. "Shut the damned door."

"I'm not here," Cal commented softly as he backed up and left, closing the door behind him, leaving them both in almost perfect darkness, save a sliver of light coming from the space between the closed curtains.

Smart move; Cal wouldn't have to report anything if he hadn't seen it. Ed reached over and flipped on the light switch.

"Ohhh shit!" Tore winced and threw his arms over his face. "What is your problem?"

"I was going to ask you the same thing," Ed replied calmly. He already had an inkling, but he wasn't going to make too many assumptions here. "You didn't report in today and folks were worried. Sara called Cecilia's apartment looking for you."

Tore groaned. "So does everyone know?"

"Know what?" Ed crossed the room and stood over him and the bed. "All Sara and Cal and I know is Cecilia's furious with you. She didn't say why. Judging by the mess, I'd say you do."

Tore blinked up at him, and took another swig out of the mostly-empty bottle. "I told her I didn't want to get married."

That wasn't what he'd been expecting at all. "Care to tell me why?" It certainly explained Cecilia's animosity.

"Will you get out of my room if I do?" Tore grumbled drunkenly.

"When I'm satisfied you've answered my questions," Ed replied sitting down firmly on the edge of the bed.

Tore sighed, and finished the bottle. "I figured out I just don't love her… not like that," he shook his head. "I feel sorry for her… her family. She's not a bad girl but I… I just couldn't see it."

"See what?" Ed prompted.

"A future," said Tore. "Marrying her would've been a mistake… a lie. I didn't even mean to propose…" he admitted. "But she was so happy…and then I realized how stupid I was being, and how selfish. She shouldn't have someone who feels sorry for her… who sticks around for sex and isn't ready to settle."

"You're right," Ed replied softly. "She doesn't."

Tore's head jerked sharply in his direction. "You serious?"

Obviously the poor kid had been beating himself up over this for hours. "Yes," Ed replied honestly. "I think you did the right thing."

"Dumping a girl in the middle of planning a wedding?" Tore's expression was even more incredulous. "I figured you'd be pissed at me."

"Better to figure it out now than to go through with the marriage," Ed pointed out. "It only gets more complicated, especially once kids get involved. Then more people get hurt, no matter how good your intentions."

"I'm not sure what I did was good for _her_," Tore sighed.

"She's not marrying a man who's not in love with her," Ed repeated Tore's own point. "She'd figure it out eventually, you know, and you'd both have regretted it later."

Tore nodded. "I… I'd sort of hoped we could still be friends or something but… I was foolish." He shook his head. "You remember Lilah?"

Ed paused, his mind trying to catch up with the unexpected turn. "You mean the prostitute?"

Tore smirked wryly. "Yeah. She told me years ago not to get love and lust confused. Well I've tried not to, but the distinction really isn't always that clear is it? Not when it gets muddled in with sympathy, pity, friendship… but I think I get what she meant now."

A lesson hard earned. Ed nodded slowly and laid one hand on Tore's shoulder in a comforting but not too friendly pat. "It's a good thing to keep in mind. A good long-term relationship is based on a lot more than sex and fun."

"Yeah…I remember."

Ed didn't have to ask. Tore was almost as predictable when it came to women as the rest of the family. "When you're ready, and you've found the right girl, I think you'll know. Consider this a painful, but useful, lesson and let yourself let it go okay? Letting it eat at you won't help."

"You're right," Tore said. "Just do me one favor."

"What's that?" Ed asked curiously, no longer too worried. Tore would weather this, spend a day hung-over, and get over it. He'd gotten past worse.

"Don't tell anyone I admitted it."


	4. Chapter 4

**April 6****th****, 1966**

"You know," Elena commented softly, but without much hope, "Doctor Tynes said you could come home if you wanted, you don't have to stay here anymore."

Maes snorted a wry laugh. "The Doc thinks I'm okay to leave, huh?" How little the man seemed to know him. "What makes him think I'm stable enough to be unsupervised?"

His mother did not look amused by his flippancy. "You're not a danger to anyone else, so there's no reason why you can't leave."

"It's not other people I wanted to hurt," Maes pointed out. He had to make them understand. "I… I'm afraid." There, he'd admitted it. If he couldn't admit that to his wife and his mother, who could he admit it to? He'd already committed the ultimate act of cowardice… and failed. He'd been willing to pull the trigger… and he'd been so drunk and unsteady he'd almost missed. The shallow wound on his head had already healed and the hair was growing back thick as ever.

"You're not going to try and hurt yourself again," Elena did not phrase it as a question, but Maes knew she was still afraid he might.

"No," he shook his head. "At least, I don't think so." He hadn't been himself the past month either though. "But what about when I'm not medicated anymore? What about when I don't have someone to keep an eye on me? What's to keep me from doing the same thing all over again?" Drinking until offing himself seemed like a good idea… when had he ever felt_ that_ was a good idea?

"Not wanting to do it again is the first critical step."

Maes looked up sharply at the voice in the doorway. It took conscious effort to loosen his back muscles when he saw that it was Ren Elric.

"We asked her to come," Elena said softly. "I hope you don't mind, but I talked to her and… she wanted to speak with you."

At this rate Maes was used to the fact that probably everyone he knew was aware of what had happened. No matter how quiet friends and family kept it, that kind of gossip always seemed to fly. Besides, he'd been in the psych ward of the military hospital for weeks. He'd had to talk to doctors almost every other day for that long as well. "Hi, Ren."

She smiled. "Hello Maes. I wish I could say this was just a social call, but I've got more questions, though I think they're a different sort than anyone else has asked you so far."

"Oh?" Maes doubted that, but he figured he could humor her. At least she was smiling and he knew she meant it.

Ren nodded. "The first one is fairly simple. How's your alchemy?"

His… alchemy? "Well it's not like I've tried to flame anything in here," Maes pointed out flatly.

Ren pulled something out of her pocket that Maes immediately recognized; his gloves like his father's. "Give me a demonstration okay?"

"In here?" Maes couldn't believe it.

"I have Tynes' permission," Ren replied. "And I can stop you if I have to."

Maes had no doubt from the look on her face that she meant that threat, and he didn't want to question what alchemical method she would use to do so. He took the gloves. "I don't know about this but… what do you want to see?"

"Well, not a conflagration," Ren smirked. "Let's see a sustained candle flame." She pulled a candle out of her pocket and set it on the table. "Light it."

Maes shook his head. That was all she wanted. That was simple stuff! Not that he liked the idea of using alchemy here, now. Frankly he wasn't sure what the point was. Still, he snapped his fingers and put his mind to it.

Nothing happened.

_What the hell? _Maes tried again. This time there was a spark, and then it died. Again he tried, and again, until finally, when he thought about absolutely nothing else, did it flicker into existence. "What happened?" He asked, horrified. Why did it take so much effort?

Ren looked sympathetic. "A common psychological result of mental breakdown is a demonstrated difficulty in doing something that used to come naturally that requires a lot of thought and foreknowledge. In a seamstress it might suddenly make it difficult to remember minor steps in drafting a pattern. With an alchemist, often it's displayed in their ability to do alchemy."

"So I… I can't do alchemy?"

Ren shook her head. "No, you can still do alchemy, as you just proved. I'm just saying, you may find that you can't do all the things you used to with it. That ability has been impaired, and there is a good chance it will never fully return. Think of it like burning away part of a document. You might remember what it said, but you can't ever reference it again, or you might remember, like part of a dream, that you knew something, but your mind won't grasp what it was."

"Shit." Maes tore off the glove and slung it against the wall. "What kind of a State Alchemist can't rely on his talents?"

He caught a glance between Riza and Elena and rounded on them. What did it mean? "What are you looking at each other for?"

Elena winced, but his mother didn't even flinch. "Maes, Kane contacted us this morning."

His stomach sank somewhere below the floor. "No… no… I can't be kicked out." What would he do? He was a State Alchemist! It was one of the few things that still identified who he was.

"Not kicked out," Elena replied soothingly, standing and reaching out to him. "Medical discharge."

"But I can get better!" Damn, now he was going to cry. What a wimp.

He didn't expect Ren to step in. "Maes, whether or not your abilities return, you tried to end your own life, and it's not a secret. You'd be a danger to yourself on a mission, and to others. They can't trust that, even with the best of intentions, you will ever have fully moved past this incident. And, as you've seen, your alchemy isn't entirely reliable. But that's not why they're doing this."

"Oh really?" Maes sniffed.

"I know for a fact that Marcus and Sara would rather see you alive than pushing yourself until it's too late. You already did once, and it's luck or divine providence that you're still here."

More like his own incompetency. No wonder they didn't want him. He couldn't even kill _himself_ right. Maes shook his head. "I get it. So… what do I do?"

"I have a suggestion," Ren continued. "As competent as psychologists may be, in Xing we have other techniques for helping patients overcome these kinds of difficulties that have proven to be very effective."

"More therapy?" Maes wasn't sure he liked that idea.

"Think of it more like philosophy," Ren smiled. "But yes, to some extent. Also, we have doctors who specialize in studying the mind, and who have had some success with alchemical treatments. It's complicated, but they can help put any of the elements of the brain back in order that have been thrown out of balance."

"Alchemical balance in the brain." Now this was the first time Maes had ever heard of that!

Ren nodded. "Like the rest of the body, the brain is made up of different components and affected by everything that happens in the body. A lot of what a patient is feeling, especially negative feelings, are often amplified by an unbalance of some sort. If that can be rectified, along with good counseling, there's no reason you _can't_ find peace and happiness again."

Maes didn't like it, not really. Going away to Xing? Letting strange doctors and alchemist have their way with his mind? Bare his mistakes to even more people? And yet….

Elena looked hopeful, though she said nothing. She was letting him decide, he realized. She was here; ready to support whatever he wanted to do. How… how could he let her down again? She and the kids were truly all he had. "How long do you think it would take?" He looked back at Ren.

"That varies by patient," Ren pointed out. "Any treatments to the body shouldn't take more than a month or so, and ought to right things so that you don't need medications to keep yourself balanced."

Which was good, since Tynes had already told him that long-term treatment with the ones he was on was likely to cause further damage to the brain instead of helping. "The rest is up to me, right?"

Ren nodded affirmatively.

"All right then," Maes agreed, shoving his reluctance to the back of his mind. He couldn't see any better course of action. "When things are arranged, I'll go."

"I'm coming of course," Elena replied, laying one hand on his arm.

Maes couldn't help smiling. "I'm not sure I can do this without you. But… what about the children?" He hadn't even seen them in the past month. He hadn't been sure how to explain himself.

"I'll take care of them," his mother said immediately. "It's only a few months, right?" She smiled. "Besides, then you'll have incentive to come home sooner."

It did, though it didn't make the decision to leave much easier. Still, he could try and put himself back together, or he could continue in misery. "All right then, I guess we're going to Xing."

**April 9****th****, 1966**

"Thanks for having me over," Tore smiled at Cal and Alyse as he sat down at their dinner table.

"Well why wouldn't we?" Alyse smiled as she passed the fresh steamed green beans his direction.

"Well I haven't exactly been great company lately," Tore didn't mind admitting. He knew he'd been antisocial and grouchy for the past couple of weeks. He felt lucky people hadn't started avoiding him all together.

Cal shrugged. "Hey, everyone has an off day…week," he paused, spoon in the potatoes, "month."

"Gee thanks." But Tore did feel better. He knew his pal was just trying to help him feel better about the whole mess. And, really, Tore had to admit Cal had a pretty good idea of how Tore felt at the moment. Circumstances aside, everyone he knew had had some kind of painful relationship experience. "I found a box of stuff outside my quarters when I got home this morning."

"Oh?" Alyse looked curious.

Tore shrugged and filled his plate. "Apparently Cecilia really meant it about never seeing me again… or my stuff either." He suspected she'd convinced a friend to bring it by. She had never liked the NCO quarters.

"At least she returned it," Cal replied. "Was there anything important?"

Tore shook his head. "Not unless you're really attached to toothpaste and a couple of pairs of socks."

Alyse chuckled. "You'd be surprised how particular he is about socks."

Tore looked over at his friend. "I don't remember _that_ from the war."

And from the way Cal's face turned pink, Tore really wished he did! Cal shrugged, trying to look casual. "Given the choice, yes, I'm kind of picky about my socks. You would be too if you had wires and gears in one of your feet."

Tore supposed that made sense. It occurred to him that he'd never really paid attention to anyone's _feet_. Fullmetal was probably fairly particular about his socks too. "That makes sense. And here I thought there might be some new use for socks I wasn't aware of."

The innuendo was not lost on Cal, who laughed, or Alyse, who blushed but managed a smirk. "No."

"Though if you've invented any…" Cal left the sentence dangling.

Tore laughed as Alyse glared at her husband, then rolled her eyes and nibbled her vegetables. "Sorry, no such luck," Tore shook his head. Even if he had, it was likely to be a while before he'd have been able to do anything with them.

"Aaand…I've brought you down," Cal sighed. "Sorry."

Apparently his expressions were pretty clear tonight. Tore shrugged. "It's not your fault," he said. "Besides, I'm the one who broke it off. I should just be grateful none of Ces' other friends have tried to come hunt me down."

"I don't think you need to worry about that," Alyse commented.

"Oh really. Have you heard something?" Tore was a little surprised. None of Cecilia's friends were the sort he could imagine showing up around Alyse much. Alyse was, to put it frankly, too classy.

"The usual gossip chain," Alyse replied. "But apparently they are A) afraid of you doing something to them with alchemy and B) don't really think it's that big a deal besides the fact that Cecilia's all emotional over it. I get the feeling they find her a little annoying sometimes."

Funny how Tore had gotten that feeling himself… often. "She could be a bit of a banshee," he agreed. "New topic please." He was having enough trouble getting his mind to stay off her for a full day enough as it was already. No urges to go back to her, but plenty of regrets on how it ended. He wasn't sure he could thank Winry enough for handling telling their friends and family – quietly – that the wedding was off.

He was grateful – and impressed – when Cal came up with something almost on the spot. "I hear the Central Zoo got some new animals in from Xing. We ought to go sometime."

**April 13****th****, 1966**

"So you really seem to like him," Winry chuckled at Nancy and Heymans as she set the little tray of desserts down on the coffee table.

Nancy smiled and took a small tea cake. "Well Raul is definitely charming, and he's got all the qualities Charisa seems to need to make a relationship work. He's intelligent, confident, well-kept, but not overbearing or domineering."

He certainly sounded like a good match. Winry was rather curious to meet Charisa's boyfriend. Apparently he had been in Central last summer on business for his father, but most of the time he was still in school in Pylos with Charisa, who was almost through with her third year at the University. "So do you think he's the one?" She sat down next to Ed and took a cup of tea from the tray.

"It's possible," Nancy's eyes twinkled over her dessert as she took a bite. "It's been nearly a year. For Charisa that's definitely a sign of something. She usually decides fairly quickly if a fellow's the right guy or not."

"And she usually doesn't talk about them unless they're serious," Breda grunted, taking a dessert for himself and the coffee Winry had made to his request.

"What do you think of this guy?" Ed asked Breda, clearly curious. "Is he worth letting stick around?"

Breda shrugged. "Not like Charisa listens to me on who she should go out with, but she could definitely have picked someone worse."

"Oh be nice," Nancy elbowed him in the ribs. "Even if you ignore the fact that he's already got an assured position in a lucrative international business, is an absolute gentleman, and also happens to be fit and good looking, he'd still be a good match."

"And since her opinion outranks yours… I think you'll just have to get used to him," Ed quipped.

"Yeah… so she keeps remind me," Breda huffed, though he smiled at his wife.

Winry was glad they'd finally had the chance to have Breda and Nancy over. It didn't happen nearly often enough. Tonight was one of those rare nights Ethan and Lia took both the kids and went out to a friend's, so that had worked out well. "Well at least she has taste."

"That's for sure."

"So, I hear you're finally talking about actually retiring," Ed turned the conversation easily enough.

Breda nodded. "Well most everything involved with the war is wrapped up, and it looks like the peace is going to last. It's not going to be tomorrow, but in a few months, a year at most."

"That doesn't sound like imminent retirement," Winry teased.

"No it doesn't," Nancy sighed dramatically, though she was smiling. "But he _is_ finally training people to take over his job."

"Oh good," Ed quipped. "That will only take what, five years?"

"Not even close," Breda assured them as the phone rang.

"I'll get it," Winry stood up again and went to get the phone. "Hello? Elric residence."

"Grandma, hi!" Coran's voice came across the line. "Is Grandpa there? I had something I wanted to tell him!"

"Hold on, I'll get him." Winry turned around. "Sorry to interrupt. Ed, it's Coran. He'd like to tell you something."

"Oh." Ed joined her and took the phone. Winry stepped back but stayed close so she could here. "Hey there, what's up?"

"I did it!" Coran sounded more upbeat than he had in months. "I used alchemy! Dad and I were working on a project and the last nail broke, and we didn't have anymore, so I tried fixing it, and it worked!"

"Well that's great!" Ed grinned, and Winry couldn't help smiling. "I told you that you'd be able to do it."

Winry left them chatting then, and went back to their guests. "Proud moment in Grandfather/Grandson alchemy lessons," she explained.

Breda chuckled. "Why am I not surprised?"

**April 19****th****, 1966**

"Have a good trip, Daddy," Rochelle said as she hugged her arms so tightly around Maes' neck he felt he might choke. He hugged her back, trying not to start crying in front of the kids.

"I will," Maes promised. "And I'll write; promise."

"Me too," Rochelle replied.

Théa's hug that followed was just as heart-felt, even if she looked a little scared. "You'll come back, right?"

Guilt threatened to swallow him. "Of course I will. Besides, Mommy's going with me right? She'll make sure I don't get lost."

Théa nodded. "Good. Just… get better, okay?"

Maes smiled. "That's the idea." He straightened up then and turned to Roy, who was standing on the other side of Riza. Maes had to fight to keep the smile on his face when he saw his son's flat expression. "Take care of your sisters, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Roy replied without enthusiasm. He made no move to hug him either.

_Damn it kid. What else can I do? _He'd apologized to his son, more than once, but Roy had been distant from him the few times they had spoken. "All right." He offered a hand for a shake instead. "Thanks."

Roy reluctantly complied with the handshake.

Maes' mother was much more in the mood for one of those bone-crunching hugs. "You had better write _and_ call," she said firmly. "No arguments."

Maes chuckled. "Yes ma'am."

Once everyone had hugged, Elena included, Maes reluctantly turned for the train, grateful that Elena was holding firmly to his arm. It would be pulling out in just a couple of minutes. "Are you ready?" he asked, Elena, more to hide his own nerves than anything else. He was sure she was more prepared than he was. It wasn't her they were trying to fix.

"No," Elena smiled up at him. "How could anyone be? But that doesn't mean we won't have a good time."

"A good time?" Maes was so surprised him almost stopped walking.

"Don't think of this as something to endure, my love," Elena nodded calmly. "Think of it as a long needed vacation at some exotic spa. Only instead of just working out sore muscles and tension, you'll get to have a whole fresh feeling in your mind too."

She had such a positive outlook, and it was so far from his own thinking, Maes was astounded. He smiled. "I like the sound of that." And he would try and believe that, as hard as he could.

* * *

_Author's Note:_ Finis! Hope everyone enjoyed the double-posting speed for the holidays. ;) Back to our normal posting schedule begnning next week, with the next story. :)


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